The Wise Prince
by DigimonDragonLady
Summary: Born the son of a King, Quatre faces an unhappy existence under the burden of his father's proclamation, until a certain emerald-eyed savior arrives at the castle. 3x4 short one-shot.


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Dragon Lady: _Hmm…_

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Ken: _Hm?_

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Trowa:_ …Is that a good, "hm" or a bad one? _

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Dragon Lady: ***shrugs* **_I dunno. _

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Ken: ***is confused* **_What do you mean you don't know?_

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Dragon Lady: ***shrugs again* **_Just what I said._

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Ken: _Then…why are you "hmm"ing? _

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Trowa: _"hmm"ing? Is that a word? The spell check doesn't appear to like it…_

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Ken: _Oh, who cares about that! What, dl? What?_

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Dragon Lady: _Relax Ken, it's just a story. _**^^;;; **

Ken: _Well…as we're doing an intro…what's it about? _***is becoming frustrated***

Dragon Lady: ***grins* **_Oh yeah._ **^^;; **_Well, I don't know what to tell you about it, really. It's a _3x4 _of course. _**^^;; **_With a mentioning of _1x2. _A really brief mentioning mind you. I know, I know, there are other gundam pilots, but Quatre and Trowa are just so damn cute_. **^.~**

Ken: ***sighs* **_Plot, dl. Plot._

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Dragon Lady: _I'm getting to that._ **=P **_It's based on an old Finnish tale, and I just snipped and edited it to my retelling, in which I had to change the sex of a character or two. _**^.~** _So Quatre is now playing the wise PRINCE. _**^_^;; **

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Trowa: _Can we get on with it then?_

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Dragon Lady: ***is being hounded by all of her muses*** _All right, already. Sheesh. I thought you were supposed to be the patient one, too._ **-.-;;;**

Trowa: _…_

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Ken: _Read, and hopefully you'll enjoy! Don't forget to review, either. _**^_^;;**

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The Wise Prince

By: DigimonDragonLady 

There lived once, in a far away desert land, a wise king who had many daughters. While he had great power and wealth, the king was neither greedy nor corrupt; but was instead a kind, benevolent ruler who cared deeply for the suffering of his people and was loved in return. His subjects were cheerful and content and wished their king only good health and a long life.

The king was also greatly admired by the other neighboring kingdoms with which he traded, and his friends told him constantly what a wonderful life he led. He had money, many lovely wives, lived in a magnificent castle, and had servants to attend his every whim. "How wonderful life must be for you," they often said.

But the king only sighed and sadly shook his head in response. He had everything he could ever want, except for one thing. He had no son with which to share his wisdom, and it made his heart sad. His daughters were indeed fine young women with all the grace and beauties of their mothers, but what the king truly desired was a male heir.

So saddened did the king become that he rarely laughed or smiled, but walked through his palace as if dead. His subjects began to worry that their king would waste away in his grief and they mourned with him.

And then there came to the king welcome and joyous news. His third wife, Fellah, had borne a healthy boy child. The king was overcome with happiness, and the kingdom rejoiced and prospered once more.

From the moment he was born, the king's son, Quatre, was pampered and dotted upon not only by his father, but by his numerous adoring sisters as well; who felt great fondness for their little brother. The servants often whispered amongst themselves that surely all of this attention would only serve to make the child into a spoiled nuisance. 

The young prince, however, grew up as the most horribly polite and kindest young man that one could ever know. His golden personality was as stunningly striking as his pale blond hair and luminous blue eyes. The young heir was very carefully guarded by his sisters and was equally precious to everyone who knew him.

The king wished for his son to become a very learned man, even more so than himself, and he brought him tutors from every corner of the world. These teachers came gladly when they found how much Quatre loved learning. Indeed, the young prince was very fond of all subjects, but most especially, languages.

Under the careful instruction of his tutors, he learned Greek, Roman, Latin and Chinese. English, Spanish, French and Japanese. German, Italian, Russian and Portuguese. Soon, he knew more than all of his teachers combined, and was able to speak with any visiting diplomat in his native language.

As Quatre grew older, the king realized that he would have to arrange a suitable marriage for his son, but the question became who to choose. His sisters, who were conceitedly proud of their brother and jealous for his attention, told their father that it would never do for Quatre to marry anyone who was not as wise and learned as himself. And they persuaded their father to put forth a proclamation to all of Quatre's admirers -- of which he had many.

The proclamation stated that Prince Quatre would marry the person that could speak a language that he did not know, but warned all suitors that the penalty for failure to do so was death.

Princesses and duchesses, dukes and lords, knights and ladies of all of the kingdoms heard the proclamation of Quatre's father and shook their heads in despair. It was impossible for anyone to know more languages than the prince, and no one would seek Quatre's hand in marriage.

Quatre soon began to feel very lonely, and became increasingly depressed that no one would marry him because of the price of failure that hung over their heads. His sisters tried to comfort and console him by telling him that if no one came that it meant that they were not good enough for him, and he could not possibly marry someone who was not good enough for him. This only served to make Quatre more depressed, because he knew that there were many good people in the world.

So many times did he go to his father, begging that the proclamation be lifted or, at the very least, lightened, that he lost count. And when his plaintive pleas could not move the king, he turned desperately to his sisters for help.

As he implored them for assistance, they pretended to listen thoughtfully, but nodded and smiled knowingly at one another, as people who share secrets often do, while the prince was close to tears.

"No one will marry me, sisters, please use whatever powers of persuasion you possess to change our father's mind," he begged, all but down on his knees.

"Dearest, Quatre," his eldest sister, Irea, soothed, pulling him into her arms in a gentle embrace and running her fingers comfortingly through his silken locks of hair. "You simply do not understand our position."

She looked upon Quatre's heartbroken face, and smiled encouragingly. "We love you too much to part with you to someone who is inferior. When the person who can speak a language unknown to you does come along, that person will be perfect."

Quatre saw his other sisters nod in complete agreement, and the prince knew that he was again defeated. 

"But how will they ever know if they can speak a language that I cannot," he asked himself sadly, "if they are too afraid to try?"

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While Quatre's days passed slowly and seemed to stretch on endlessly before him, an entourage of nobles and their various friends and attendants from the distant kingdom of Sanq arrived in the royal city as visitors of the kings. With it came many fine people, like the Lady Relena and her close friend Dorthy Catolonia, as well as her brother Heero and his lover Duo, and several of their close friends. 

They were richly entertained by the king and were thoroughly enjoying their visit. They spent days doing nothing more than lounging comfortably in the royal gardens and indulging in picnic lunches. It was on such a day, in fact, that Trowa Barton, a friend of Duo and Heero's, observed the golden prince in the company of his sisters. 

He was enthralled by the beauty of the heavenly vision before his eyes and drank in every graceful movement the stunning creature made. The boy was lovely, with an inarticulate sadness about him, that bled into his soft, hesitant smiles and luminous blue eyes like a raw wound. When their group had moved beyond his sight, Trowa eagerly inquired about the identity of the angel he had observed, and was told by his friends of the prince's life and sad predicament.

"He feels so very lonely," Relena sympathized with the prince, "but the proclamation of his father's still stands. It's such a shame, you know, for he's ever so nice."

The conversation eventually turned to other more pleasant things, but the memory of the prince stayed with Trowa, and he found himself thinking of him constantly. When he confessed these new feelings to Duo and Heero, his friends advised him to stay far enough away.

"Remember that failure means death," they warned.

But Trowa only shook his head, confident in his ability to win the prince as his own. "I know many languages that the prince does not," he assured them, ignoring their skeptical looks and worried expressions. Trowa knew that he had to have the prince; from the first moment he had seen him, his heart had known. And he knew what it was he had to do.

He went directly to the guards stationed before the king's throne room, and there did he inform the head guard, an enormous bear of a man, that he sought the hand of the prince. The guards laughed at him, and he was told that he could never hope to win someone so wonderful as the prince. But Trowa remained determined, and they opened the doors for him, announcing him as a suitor.

Inside the throne room, the lovely prince sat beside his father, the king, and was surrounded by his sisters. When he saw Trowa, he gave him a genuine smile of encouragement, for he liked the gleam in his eye. Quatre was, in fact, absolutely delighted with the young man, but also very afraid for him.

"Father," he whispered, "please do not harm him, for he seems so very kind and brave."

The king frowned thoughtfully and reminded the would be suitor of the price of failure, but Trowa merely replied that he was not afraid and the king, upon seeing his determination, then ordered him to speak his language.

Trowa stood before the prince, who was tense with worry, and who's eyes shone with concern. "Listen closely, beautiful prince," he advised, and then, to the prince's surprise pulled an ash colored gray cat from his coat.

He rubbed his hand gently over the cat's head, until the small animal was purring with pleasure and then turned to the prince. 

"Do you understand?" he asked.

Quatre continued to stare at the cat, a small frown etched upon his delicate features, and he shook his head mutely.

"But prince," Trowa replied calmly, "you claim to understand all languages. This cat wants only to know if he might sit upon your lap." He murmured softly in the cat's ear before releasing the animal on the ground. And the cat moved at once to the prince, where it leapt up and curled itself upon his lap. 

"How wonderful," Quatre breathed in amazement.

Trowa smiled briefly, before reaching into his coat a second time and pulling out a tiny sparrow. The sparrow chirped and hopped about on his hand, cocking it's tiny head inquiringly.

"You understand, of course," Trowa asked again.

And again Quatre shook his head, his fingers absently stroking the cat curled upon his lap as he focused his attention on the sparrow on Trowa's palm. "No, I'm afraid that I don't," he answered softly.

"The sparrows asks if he can alight upon your shoulder," Trowa answered simply and let go of the sparrow, that flew at once to the prince and alighted upon his shoulder.

"How do you know this?" Quatre asked. "How do you know what they say? Who taught you the language of these animals?"

Trowa smiled at the innocent curiosity in his questions, and answered as honestly as possible. "Many of my days have I spent in the company of such animals as these, prince, listening carefully. I understand the language of the beasts and the birds, and if you marry me I can teach you as well. There are many languages that even the greatest of scholars do not know."

Quatre's sisters were furious. "How can you allow such a man to make a fool of you?" they demanded angrily. "You are the most learned person in the kingdom, and you know all languages!"

"Dear ladies, your brother is indeed wise beyond words," Trowa murmured soothingly. "For only the wise can admit that they do not know everything."

Quatre was so pleased and overjoyed at Trowa's understanding that he begged his father to allow him this marriage, and the king, in seeing his son's true happiness, could not bring himself to deny him that.

Trowa did earn the respect of Quatre's sisters, and he and Quatre lived happily, always seeking wisdom in even the smallest of places. Always wise enough to know that they could always learn more.

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Dragon Lady: _Well, I tried to approach this in a classic style, as you can see, moral and all. _***shrugs* **_I'm not overly certain how effective it was, though. _**^^;; **

Ken: _Well, it's definitely different from your other things…_

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Dragon Lady: _No kidding. But this was just one of these little ideas that you muses give me that refuse to leave me alone._ _I was driving myself crazy by not writing it. So in the end, what did I end up doing? _***sighs* **_Care to hazard a guess, Trowa?_

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Trowa: _…um…writing it at twelve o'clock at night?_ ***blinks innocently* **_That's not really MY fault, you know…_

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Dragon Lady: ***grumbles* **_yeah, right, sure it's not. And I got a total of five hours of sleep. Now there's what I call fun. _***rolls eyes***

Ken: **^^;;;;**

Dragon Lady: _Anyway…_***brightens* **_Did you like it? _***looks hopeful* **_I really did my best on it, but I really need some feedback too. Even if it's to tell me that it seriously sucked and that I should NEVER attempt anything like this again._

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Trowa: ***stares blankly at dl***

Ken: _…?_

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Dragon Lady: _…I would seriously HOPE that no one would be quite that rude, though. _**^^;;; **_Not that I don't appreciate honesty and all. _

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Trowa: **///_^;;;**

Dragon Lady: _The original myth/fable/whatever it was came from an old newspaper clipping I had from The News & Observer North Carolina paper that used to put out a fable or myth every week in a section called Tell Me a Story, but they stopped that a few years back. _***pouts* **_That was my favorite thing to read in the Tuesday paper, too. _***sighs* **_Oh well, I saved a lot of the stories that I read, so if the general opinion of this sort of thing is high, you might just see another one sometime soon. _**^.~ **


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